


Honeysuckle and Ivy

by Nerdamongnerds



Series: Foggy Day Flowers Verse [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Based on a Tumblr Post, Language of Flowers, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdamongnerds/pseuds/Nerdamongnerds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foggy Nelson is just a simple florist minding his own business when Matt Murdock comes into his shop, pissed off and with a curious request.</p><p>AKA: The Flower shop AU no one asked for</p><p>Based on this tumblr post<br/>http://archangelimpala.tumblr.com/post/145970078920/flower-shop-au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Purple Lilacs

The week after Mother’s Day was predictably quiet, but Foggy Nelson didn’t exactly mind, having worked so hard on special orders the week before. Save for a few rush deliveries from people who forgot to get them early, there wasn’t much for the owner and sole employee of the flower shop to do. He was trying to balance the budget for the summer lull when the bell above the door rang, announcing a customer, and in walked one of the most handsome men he had ever seen. Foggy could tell from glasses and cane, that the man was blind. And also angry, but doing his best to hide it. He came up to the counter and slid a twenty folded into quarters and a ten folded in half lengthwise as he leaned in close and whispered.

“I need a bouquet that passive aggressively says ‘fuck you’ in flower. ” 

The request was so strange, the only thing Foggy could do was look at the man who just came into his shop. What would a strangely attractive blind man want with flowers? That was when he noticed the woman behind the man. In fact, it was odd he hadn't noticed her before, she was talking so much, in a nasal voice that made Foggy's ears hurt.

“You don't really have to do this, I know I helped you walk to work, but you don't really need to get me  _ flowers…” _ (Foggy noticed she wasn't protesting all that hard, though, almost looked pleased with herself, and hadn't heard what the man asked for, either.)

 

The blind man made a grimace that was hidden from the woman, and Foggy understood. The man hadn't asked her for help, she most likely insisted and he let her just to get it over with. 

“I got it,” Foggy replied. He didn't know why he was smiling conspiratorially, but it felt right.

He went into the back and put together a bouquet of geraniums (stupidity), foxglove (insincerity), meadowsweet (uselessness), and, just for good measure, some yellow carnations (you have disappointed me). 

 

Matt, for his part, was still being bothered by the woman, and the scents of all the flowers in the shop were somewhat overwhelming, but the promise of petty revenge made him stay. He was glad this florist had understood what he was asking for, plus his humming from the back room provided a pleasant distraction from the woman who would. Not. Shut. Up.

“I mean, a lot of other people don't care about blind people, but not me. I'm the type of person who helps out. I mean, how else would you have crossed the street?” 

Matt just nodded along, trying his best to tune her out. 

 

Meanwhile, Foggy heard her from the back room and added a few more geraniums and meadowsweet, adding a couple inches on each side to make the whole thing just that much more annoying to carry, probably taking it’s worth over the $30 he had been given, but it was worth it to him. The whole thing was frankly ridiculous. He was able to use the opportunity to get rid of some of his less attractive flowers as well as taking it upon himself to also add a lot of unnecessary foliage to make it that much more awkward for the woman to carry, as, already from his quick impression of her, Foggy really disliked this woman. She seemed smug and trying to force her help on people who really didn’t need it in order to make her feel good about herself the next time they treated a homeless person terribly. Even so, despite the pettiness it was made with, the bouquet was still striking. The yellow of the carnations went well with the purple of the geraniums and foxglove, and the white of the meadowsweet brought the whole thing together as a centerpiece, and was able to hide the less attractive parts of the lesser flowers. Pettiness and passive-aggression was no reason to not take pride in his work. Foggy carried the bouquet out with a wide, false smile. “Here you are, ma’am.” He handed the bulky bundle to her before turning to the man. He took one of his business cards and a pen, writing his name and number down, pressing as hard as he could to make deep indentations in the card stock, and held it out to the man. “It’s a pleasure to have your business, I’m Foggy Nelson, the owner here. I wrote down my number on this card, hopefully you can make it out, I tried to make it as deep as possible so you could feel the shapes of the numbers, because I don't actually know braille, and ...” He trailed off to keep himself from babbling like an idiot anymore. But with a smile like this man had, could anyone blame him? “...But if there’s anything else I could do for you, don’t hesitate to call. It’s right in front of you, to your left a little.”

Matt reached out, taking the card, and smiled, easily keeping up his facade of average blind man. 

“Foggy?” He asked.

“It’s a nickname. Everyone says it fits me better than Franklin.”

“Well, from what I can tell, they’re right. Matt Murdock.” He held out the hand that wasn’t holding his cane, which Foggy shook.

“Like I said, pleasure.”

The woman in back cleared her throat loudly, probably upset about being forgotten about. “Are you ready to leave?”

Matt turned to her, clearly frustrated. “Actually, I’m only going right around the corner, I think I’ll be fine.” He turned back to the florist with a smile before walking out.“Nice meeting you.” Foggy was nice, but the smell of the flowers was giving him a headache, and he couldn’t stand another moment of having to listen to the woman. 

 

He was out and down the street when he heard Foggy call out after the woman, the petty smirk clear in his voice clear from even such a distance. “You can’t just give it back, a  _ blind man _ got that for you as a thank you for your selfless deed! You should definitely carry it all the way to your office.”

 

Matt was halfway smitten already. And, though he didn't know it, so was Foggy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know very little about flowers and flower shops, but I loved this idea and just ran with it!
> 
> All of the chapters will have flower titles with meanings. For instance, purple lilacs mean first emotions of love.
> 
> Also I'may basing my interpretation of the woman and Matt's reaction to her on certain members of my family and memories of my great grandfather, who was blind.
> 
> Please let me know if you're interested in more of this verse!
> 
> Special thanks to [koscheiis](http://www.koscheiis.tumblr.com) on tumblr for their help with the Flower language, and to my beta [spooteh.tumblr.com ](http://www.spooteh.tumblr.com)
> 
> I'm on tumblr at [nerdamongnerds!](http://www.nerdamongnerds.tumblr.com)


	2. Jonquil

“Has the hot blind guy come back?” Karen asked as she handed Foggy the coffee she brought over from her shop next door.

“Not today,” he replied as he looked up from yesterday's sales. 

Matt had been back four times in the month since the first incident, and Foggy had learned a little more about him from their short conversations during those visit. He worked nearby, doing what, Foggy didn't know yet, but they had realized that they had a few mutual acquaintances, and that he was blinded as a kid when chemicals spilled in his eyes after trying to save a man. Foggy remembered hearing about that as a kid, and was just as impressed with his bravery now as he had been back then.

Foggy took a sip of the coffee, and did a practiced job of holding back from making a face. Karen meant well, and she was one of his closest friends, but it would take a miracle for anyone to have the ancient coffeemaker in her secondhand bookstore to make anything that tasted close to good.

“And his name is Matt.”

“What's his deal, anyway?”

“He just comes in, I say hi, we talk a little, and then he picks one of the small rose bouquets by the door.”

“What do you think he does with them?”

Foggy rolled his eyes and went back to the books. “I don't know. My guess is he gives them to his girlfriend. A guy that attractive has to to be in a relationship already.” 

He did a good job of not openly sighing forlornly, but his voice came out a little more wistful and bitter than he hoped.

Karen stared at him as she took a sip of her coffee, a smile playing around her lips.

“What’s that look about?”

“Oh, Foggy. Foggy, Foggy, Foggy. You have a  _ crush _ .”

“What? No I don't!” Foggy objected 

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Don't quote Shakespeare at me. Is that why you came over? To bug me?”

She shook her head. “Did you hear about Melvin Potter? The tailor? His shop got trashed last night.” 

“Is he okay?” 

“He got a pretty big gash in his arm, he tried to keep them from slicing up his fabrics, he's in the hospital, will need some stitches, but he’ll be fine.”

“Damn. Do you know if it was the Russians?”

Karen nodded and Foggy sighed. The thing he liked about this area of New York was that these few blocks had a feel more like main street in a small town, and all the owners around here knew each other. Gentrification had made some things like walking home at the end of the day easier, the streets cleaner, the area nicer. On the surface, anyway. Every so often, a new criminal element decided they were in charge and started trying to shake all of the small business into paying “protection.” This time, it was the Russian mob.

“I'll make an arrangement for him and his wife, bring it over and see if there’s anything else I can do. Are you going to write about it?”

Karen looked pensive. In addition to her store, which didn't do very good business,she got most of her money writing a weekly op-ed column for the neighborhood news online. She got the job because she kept writing in angry letters to the editor that everyone loved for the passion, insight, and bravery. Foggy kept telling her she should go and be a reporter for a major newspaper, but she loved her books and the freedom she had with her column too much to leave.

“I don't know,” she said after a long moment. “That might put spotlight on Melvin, make him more of a target, and if they come back they might not be as nice. But I haven't even told you the interesting part.”

“Oh? And what's that?”

“He says he was saved by the man in black.”

Foggy scoffed. “Then they might want to check him for head trauma at the hospital.”

“Why? You don't believe the stories?”

“Of a street ninja fighting crime in nothing but black clothes and a mask that covers his eyes, no weapons but sticks and his fists? Please.”

It was Karen's turn to roll her eyes at him. “You never know. Maybe he's out there. Maybe he'll take down the Russians.”

“Keep believing that all you want, Karen.”

“Fine, we won't talk about him, let's talk about your crush again.” 

“Who's crush?” asked a new voice.

Foggy looked up and tried not to die of embarrassment. Of course,  _ of course _ Matt had to slip in while they were talking, and neither one of them even noticed until he said something. The only consolation was, from his question, he couldn't have been there long enough to have overheard Karen talk about Foggy's crush on him. 

“Foggy here has a crush on someone, don't you, Foggy?” She smiled at him sweetly.

“Shut up or you're never welcome back in here again.”

“Who's the lucky someone?”

Karen looked at Foggy, then back to Matt, saying the first name that popped into her head. “Frank.”

Foggy's jaw dropped. Of all the names she could have said, why  _ Frank? _ The ex-Marine scared the hell out of Foggy every time he passed by his gym. Yeah, Frank wasn't a bad looking guy, Foggy could admit that, but every time the two of them talked Foggy got the sense that he might have to go coffin shopping.

Matt tilted his head curiously and frowned almost imperceptibly for a brief moment before smiling at Karen. “Lucky Frank, then. I don't believe we've met. Matt Murdock.” He held out a hand in her direction, which Karen happily shook. 

“Karen Page. I run the bookstore next door.”

Matt smiled charmingly. “I don't have much use for books that aren't in braille, but I'll have to come in and check it out sometime.” 

Karen giggled. “Well, if you do, I'll be happy help you find whatever you're looking for.”

“I'm sure you will.” He smiled at her again, and Karen even blushed.

Foggy had a strange feeling in his chest watching the two of them, and tried to interrupt. 

“So, Matt, what bring you back in? More roses?”

“No more roses. The thorns kept causing me issues.”

“You should have said something, I would have been happy to remove them for you.”

Matt shook his head. “It's fine, don't worry about it. I actually came in to ask if you could make something more special.”

Foggy nodded and took out an order form, trying to focus and go into business mode as much as he could with Matt near him, filling in the information, asking Matt for the stuff he didn't already know, like address and phone number. 

“What kind of flowers would you like, how do you want it to be?” He was dying to ask who it was for, if it was for the same person he bought all the roses for, how serious things were with them, but he was trying to be professional.

Matt shrugged. “It’s honestly all the same to me, and I trust you to make it great.” He smiled at Foggy warmly, which made Foggy's heart pound.

“When would you like this by?”

“Would 5 on the day after tomorrow be enough time? I can come in and pick them up.”

“Absolutely, sounds great,” Foggy said amicably as he noted the day and time on the form. He smiled to himself about having a set day that they would get to see each other again, instead of having to wonder when Matt would come in again.

  
It didn't hurt that he also now had Matt’s number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jonquils have multiple meanings, but in this instance, it means a desire for a return of affection.
> 
> Thank you again to [spooteh](http://www.spooteh.tumblr.com) and [koscheiis](http://www.koscheiis.tumblr.com), with a special thanks to [ifonlyiwaswittier](http://www.ifonlyiwaswittier.tumblr.com)
> 
> I'm [nerdamongnerds](http://www.nerdamongnerds.tumblr.com) on tumblr!
> 
> I'm so glad that you guys seem to like this verse, your comments keep this going, thank you so much!


	3. Stock

Matt Murdock was distracted and confused, which was a dangerous combination given how he chose to spend his nights. He ended up getting punched much more than usual, and it was all the florist’s fault. Even as he swung his fist at a robber intent on sneaking up a fire escape, his thoughts drifted back to that afternoon.

Crack. His fist connected with the man’s cheek. Why had Foggy’s friend lied about Frank, whoever he was? She certainly seemed to think Foggy had a crush on someone else.

Dodge. Left. Right. A kick, a miss, then wham. This time the hit was on Matt, too concerned with whether or not Foggy was even interested in anyone. (At least the lie seemed to imply men were an option for Foggy.) That was the downside to his abilities. He could hear heartbeats, could tell if someone was lying, but that didn’t tell him what the truth was, or help if they believed they were telling the truth and were just wrong. He gritted his teeth and tasted blood in his mouth.

The whole thing was just frustrating as hell. Matt had found flimsy excuses to go back down that street and get flowers at least once a week since they first met, all in hopes of getting to know the man, and yet, Franklin “Foggy” Nelson remained all business every time except for that afternoon. Matt didn’t even like roses. He had thought flirting with his friend would get more of a reaction from him, but no. 

The robber used Matt’s distraction to slam him into a brick wall, and Matt heard his rib fracture as it happened. Shit. That was going to hurt tomorrow.   
Finally, finally, he managed to knock the robber out. He managed his way home, and promptly passed out on his couch. Stupid Foggy.

...

Two days later, at 6:10, Foggy was decidedly not worried about Matt. Nope. Not even a little, except in a purely professional manner, as someone running a business would be concerned about any customer running 30 minutes late to pick up an order. He certainly wasn’t waiting to see Matt again or anything. He glanced at the phone for the tenth time in four minutes, before sighing and dialing the number on the order form.

A female voice answered on the seventh ring. “...Hello?”  
“Um, is Matt there? Um, I mean, Mr. Murdock? This is Foggy, his…” He trailed off, about to say friend, but thought better of it. “His florist.”  
Foggy heard a man’s muffled swearing, before the woman responded almost coldly. “He’s not available right now. Why are you calling?”  
“Well, uh, he ordered an arrangement the other day? and was supposed to pick it up at 5?” Foggy hated how his voice made everything sound like a question. He took a moment to steady his nerves before continuing. “I was wondering if he was okay.”  
“Matthew is fine, though he is supposed to be resting…” There was a crash in the background. “And not throwing things!” That part was clearly directed at Matt, but the woman gathered herself quickly. “He’s not feeling well and won’t be able to pick it up today.”  
“Oh. Well, I could bring it over, if he would like? I have his address on the order form…”   
He swore he could have heard the dragon-like smile spread across the woman’s face. “Wait…. Foggy, you said? I think he actually appreciate that, and I’ve been here long enough. Knock when you get here.”  
And with that, she hung up on him. 

Well. That was interesting. 

...

At the same moment, Matt was glaring at Elektra as best as he could. Being stuck in his apartment for two days at her insistence made him testy, and the irregular drip-drop of the leak in his pipe that no one else could hear, or knew how to either find or fix was driving him right up the wall.   
“Why did you do that?!?”   
“Because, Matthew, you’ve been talking about him for days, wondering whether or not he’s interested. Well, this way you can find out, and I don’t have to hear you whining anymore. Honestly, it’s almost insulting.” Matt grumbled and went to find a shirt. “Ah-ah-ah, don’t you dare. If you’re trying to woo this florist, trust me, seeing you shirtless is one of the best ways to do it.”   
Matt felt his mouth fall open, but put the shirt in his hands back down.

...

Twenty minutes later, Foggy’s heart was racing as he stood outside Matt’s building with flowers and a container of warm soup from Foggy’s favorite deli. He really hoped it didn’t seem super desperate. Matt was feeling bad, and they were sort of friends, right? It was the polite thing to do. But that didn't stop Foggy from feeling awkward and blushing like crazy as a man passing by smiled at him and called him a good boyfriend. Eventually, Foggy did manage to work up the nerve to enter the building. As he got to Matt’s floor, a woman came out of Matt’s apartment, and Foggy instantly knew that it was the woman he had been on the phone with. She was beautiful in a sharp, dangerous way, like she knew exactly how to stab him in the neck with her stiletto heels and walk away without any blood on her. She looked Foggy up and down in an almost clinical examination before a satisfied smile broke slowly across her face as she walked past him.  
“Adorable.”

So that was the woman in Matt’s life. Foggy felt his ears turn red as he gave her a small wave before walking quickly to the door and knocking.

Matt answered quickly, and the first thing Foggy noticed was that he wasn't wearing a shirt, and that there was a large bruise across his side.  
Don’t look, don't look, don't look… he mentally chanted to himself.   
“Um… hi. I have your flowers, and I thought you might like some soup? So I brought some from my favorite deli and I have that right here. So, I take it you’re feeling better, I mean, if you’re up and around.” He was babbling. He knew he was babbling, but how was anyone supposed to concentrate when there was a shirtless Matt Murdock in front of them?  
“Elektra… she’s…. She overstated. I’m fine, she just wanted me Come on in, Foggy. You can put them on the counter and…Damn it!” Matt yelled out of nowhere, clenching his hand into a fist.  
“What’s wrong?”  
Matt looked like he was internally debating something before speaking. “There’s… there’s this drip in my sink… My landlord doesn’t know enough about plumbing to fix it, and it’ll take days to get a plumber out here, but… you know how they say that when one sense goes the others compensate? I have really good hearing, and the dripping is driving me crazy.”  
Foggy placed the flowers near the sink. “You know… growing up my dad owned a hardware store, taught me some things. I could… I don’t know, borrow some tools from your landlord, see if I could fix it for you?” He glanced at Matt, which gave him another distracting look at his chest, but it was nothing compared to the look on Matt’s face. The man had a smile like the goddamn sun.  
“You would do that?”  
It was Foggy’s turn to smile.   
“Yeah, buddy, of course I would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stock flowers mean Bonds of Affection
> 
> I really hope you guys like this chapter, it took a while to get it written, life happens, you know, but I promise, I have the rest of the fic planned, and the next few chapters have some really good stuff in them!  
>  
> 
> [Visit me on tumblr!](http://nerdamongnerds.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> Special thanks to [spooteh](http://spooteh.tumblr.com) and [larthain](http://larthrain.tumblr.com/)


	4. Gardenias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for taking so long with this chapter, things in my life have been crazy, and I have had a case of writer's block, but here it is!
> 
> This chapter is more of a second half to chapter 3 than a chapter in it's own right, but I hope you guys like it anyway!

Twenty minutes later, Foggy was on his back under Matt’s sink It had been ten minutes since he came back to the apartment with the tools, and he had tried to hide his disappointment that while he was gone, Matt had decided to put on a shirt. Since then, the two men had been in the middle of an awkward silence, neither one sure of what to say, or if breaking the quiet was even a good idea.

In the end, it was Matt who spoke first. “How does the son of a hardware store owner become a florist?”

Foggy stuck his head from out from under the sink, taking a subtle glance at the other man to gauge how serious the question was. “Are you sure you want to hear the story? It’s kinda long.”

“I’m absolutely sure.” 

Foggy ducked back below to keep working as he talked. “Well, the shop wasn’t always mine. My grandfather bought it in his twenties, opened up a butcher shop. When he retired, he left it to my dad, who turned it into a hardware store. I grew up in that place, learned how to do things like… well, like fix pipes, but I never really enjoyed it. I, heh, I actually wanted to be a lawyer, got accepted into Columbia to be pre-law, even. I was about to go, but my dad got sick the summer after I graduated high school. Someone needed to stay home and help take care of the shop and Candace, my sister, while my mom took care of him. Learned how to run a business, which is helpful now, but… he died a year later. It’s been six years.” He could hear his voice breaking, but powered through it. “I took over the shop, but made it my own thing, like he did from his dad. He loved this neighborhood, loved the people here, and I wanted to do something to brighten their days, whether they were buying something or not, and I always loved flowers. You can say so much with them, well, you learned that from when we first met.” He smiled to himself at the memory, and so did Matt, though Foggy couldn’t see it.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” 

There was a final squeak as Foggy tightened the last bolt before coming up. “So. There’s my story. And your leak is fixed.” Matt paused for a moment, almost like he was listening for something, and then Foggy was treated to another one of those thousand-watt smiles.

“Thank you. Really. Feel free to grab a beer from the fridge.”

He did, grabbing an extra one and going to sit next to Matt on the couch.  
“Grabbed you one too, it's right in front of you.” Matt reached out and took it, opening it easily and taking a long sip, and Foggy really tried not to stare at his throat as he did. “So, Matt, I was just thinking, I don't really know anything about you.” 

Matt chuckled. “Well, I’m a lawyer. I went to Columbia law. It's almost funny, in another universe, we could have been roommates, or friends.”

If Matt could have seen the look that went across Foggy's face at that, it would have broken his heart, it was so sad. “We aren't friends?”

Matt’s face fell at that. How was he supposed to tell Foggy that he wanted to be more than friends? Instead, he made himself smile and put his hand on Foggy's knee. “We’re definitely friends.”

There was a long silence as the two of them sat there, both wondering what to say next.

“So, I was wondering… as a friend, of course, but… earlier you had your shirt off and I couldn't help but notice that you had a pretty large bruise on your side. What happened there?”

Matt’s face flicked through several emotions so quickly Foggy couldn’t follow them, but eventually settled into a fairly casual expression. “Oh that? I just got hit by the heavy bag at the gym.” 

“Why were you trying to box?” Not that Foggy thought he couldn't do because he was blind or anything, the man clearly worked out in ways Foggy would never, but it seemed like an odd hobby for a blind man to pick up out of nowhere.

“My dad was a boxer, going to that gym, throwing punches, it makes me feel close to him.” Matt swallowed. That was more than he really opened up to anyone except maybe Elektra, years ago. He tried to change the subject. “What’s your favorite flower?”

“Gardenias.” Foggy’s answer was quick, automatic. As a florist, it was a question he got a lot.

“Why?” 

That question was more rare. “They’re just...pure. That’s what they represent in flower language, along with their other meaning, it’s just. They’re really beautiful.”

“What’s their other meaning?”

“I think I’m in love with you.” The words hung in the air between them for a moment before Foggy realized what it sounded like. “The meaning! That’s what they mean, I mean.” It didn’t matter if the words were true, because he barely knew Matt, he had just told them that they were friends, nothing more, and besides, he had a girlfriend. A beautiful, dangerous looking girlfriend. It didn’t matter how many of the white blooms he had put into the arrangement on the counter. His heart started to ache. He needed to go, because every second he spent with Matt, he felt himself falling deeper and deeper. He sighed and stood up, placing his beer on the coffee table.

“I should probably get these tools back to your landlord, get back to the shop, you know.”

“....Okay. If you need to. Thanks again for the soup, and for fixing the leak.”

“Yeah, of course, any time.”

“I hope to talk to you again.”

“Well, you know where to find me.” Foggy smiled at the other man as he picked up the toolbox, though he couldn’t see it. He stood in the doorway, taking in a last long look at Matt, drinking the sight of him in. “Bye, Matt.”

“Goodbye, Foggy.”

Matt closed the door after the florist left, leaning against it and sighing. He wished he could tell Foggy everything, but he just couldn’t. All he could do was be grateful for the soup and that his sink was no longer dripping incessantly.

He was about to walk back to his room, when he smelled something in the flower arrangement, a scent coming from the most flowers. It was familiar, delicate, smelled like the perfume Marci used to wear when he interned at Landman and Zacks. He had asked her once what the scent was, and his jaw dropped when he remembered her answer.

Gardenias.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me this far!  
> Comments are love! They are also the best way to help make sure I keep up motivation to write the next chapters faster! What kinds of things would you like to see next?
> 
> As always, feel free to talk to me on tumblr at [nerdamongnerds!](nerdamongnerds.tumblr.com)


	5. Yellow Acacia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, this past month has been a ridiculous combo of work, stress, and writer's block.  
> Hopefully this chapter will make up for the wait, it's my favorite one so far, and as an added bonus, it's twice as long.

 

“Matt Murdock, you colossal idiot. Why didn't you tell me you knew my favorite Foggy-Bear?”

The blind man looked at where he could tell Marci was standing. She was a colleague, but sometimes she made working at Landman and Zacks a real pain. “Who?”

“Foggy. The florist?”

He tilted his head curiously. “How do you know him?”

“We used to date, years ago, in school. We still meet up sometimes for drinks, and the other day he mentioned a certain blind lawyer who he helped “fix his pipes.””

“Oh.” He failed to hide a blush.

She scoffed. “Please Murdock. I’m not going to challenge you for his hand or whatever else you're thinking. But know this.” Marci’s voice dropped, and Matt didn't have to see to know she was giving him a death glare. “If you hurt that boy, there is no way you get away from me in one piece. Clear?”

Matt gulped and nodded. “We’re clear.”

 

...

 

Foggy was coming back to the shop the next day when Karen cornered him, pulling him inside.

“I know you went to hot blind guy’s place, and stayed there for a few hours. Tell me everything.”

Foggy’s face went as pink as the shirt he was wearing. “His name is Matt. And there’s nothing to tell. I brought him his flowers, and some soup because he was feeling sick, and I fixed a leak in his his sink before leaving.”

“Yeah, I bet you “ _fixed his pipes...”_ ”

“No, Karen. Literally. He has a girlfriend.”

He watched her face fall in a way his must have when he pieced it together himself.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Foggy. That has to be hard. I saw how you looked at him.”

“Can we change the subject please?” He fought to keep his voice from cracking.

She nodded with a sad look in her eyes. “How did things go with Melvin?” When he brought the tailor and his wife flowers, he had offered to help with some of the repairs, which was where he had been coming from.

Foggy sighed and placed his tools behind the counter, next to the bat he kept there, just in case.

“Things are looking good. We fixed the window, he should be back open for business by the end of the week.”

“That’s good, though I can’t imagine the Russians are too happy about it.”

“Well, they can go screw themselves. Potter refused to give in to them, and if we all help each other out, then they might just decide this neighborhood isn't worth the trouble.”

“Or the man in black will drive them out.”

 

...

 

Across town, Matt was lying on a couch, getting stitched up by Claire, a nurse friend, as Elektra stood over him disapprovingly.

“You can’t just be distracted like this out there, Matthew.”

“She’s right, Matt. If this cut was any deeper, you’d be a dead man.” Claire added.

Matt rolled his eyes. “I'm fine.”

“No, you're not,” both women snapped in unison.

“You learned under Stick same as I did, and that florist of yours is getting in your head. Sort your shit out, or I will do it for you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would.”

Claire finished stitching Matt up and looked up at him. “Look Matt. You could get killed any night you put on the mask, even when you aren’t distracted. You work hard, and you deserve a little happiness. Even if he turns you down, you keep so many secrets, don’t you want to get at least one off your chest?” She looked to Elektra to back her up, but she had already left the room as silently as a shadow. “She can be a little scary sometimes, you know that?”

Matt chuckled. “She has that effect on a lot of people.”

 

...

 

The next day, right as the sun was setting, and Foggy was just about to close up, the bell above the door to the shop rang.

“Welcome to Foggy Day Flowers, how can I help you?” Foggy called as he came from the back and trailed off when he saw who it was. “Oh. Hello.”

The woman smiled at him, almost wickedly. “Hello, Foggy. Elektra Natchios. We have a mutual friend, I think.”

“I remember seeing you outside of Matt’s.” That was an understatement. He had spent so many hours thinking about her, why Matt would be with her, how he thought he would be better with F… with someone else. “How is he doing, by the way?”

Elektra’s smile fell as a pensive look came across her face. “He’s doing better in some respects, worse in others. He needs to work somethings out.”

“Oh. Well, give him my best wishes for a quick recovery.” He hated hearing that Matt wasn’t doing well, but Foggy wasn’t his boyfriend, he had met the man only a few weeks ago. He tried to change the subject. “How did you like the flowers?”

“What flowers?”

“The ones Matt kept getting for you? All the roses? The arrangement I brought to his apartment?”

She looked confused. “He told me he was taking all the flowers to the Catholic orphanage. Except for that big arrangement you brought him, those are still in his apartment.”

“He wasn’t giving them to you?”

Elektra shook her head, and looked at Foggy curiously. “Is that why you haven’t told him yet? Because you think we’re together?”

The florist chuckled nervously. “Told him what? There’s nothing to tell.”

“Please. Don’t lie to me. I could tell you had a crush on him since the moment I saw you in the hallway.”

“Does… does he know?”

She shook her head again. “No. He doesn’t. But you’re wrong. We aren’t together, haven’t been for years.”

“You… you haven’t?” Foggy’s heart was beating wildly in his chest.

“Not since college. But we’re still friends, and I would _hate_ to see him hurt.” The threat in her words was clear, and one Foggy was certain she could follow through on. The two of them stayed there staring at each other for a tense moment before she gave him the same shark-like grin from their first meeting, like she knew all of Foggy’s secrets and was simply amused by them. “Matt says he’ll be coming by again soon. When he does, I’m guessing you both will have a lot to talk about, hm?” She gave him a final smile and walked out.

He stood there in a daze for a while thinking about what Elektra said, before realizing that it was well past the time that he should be locking up. He had just locked the door when three shadows were cast in the glow from the streetlight.

“Unlock the door,” a deep voice with a thick Russian accent said to him. Foggy was about to turn around, but before he could, he felt something being pressed into his back. The man had a gun.

“We go inside, all four of us. We will have a talk.”

Foggy was marched into his shop at gunpoint, and once all of them were inside, the two men without guns started looking around. One found a vase and smashed it on the floor before the leader spoke again.

“Mr. Nelson. You have made yourself a problem for us. Every time we try and teach someone what kind of bad things could happen if they do not pay us, you come along and help them. It is not good for business, you see.”

Another vase hit the floor as Foggy slowly backed away to beside the counter.

“So you want me to stop helping my friends so you can run your extortion racket, and, let me guess, while you’re here, you want me to start paying you protection too?”

The man chuckled. “You are a smart man.”

“And if I refuse?”

He gestured with his gun. “You can guess. Like I said, Mr. Nelson. You are a smart man.”

“Not that smart…” he muttered to himself as he dove to grab the bat behind the counter and quickly jamming the wide end into the Russian’s ribs, creating a brief moment of confusion so he could hit the silent button to alert the police.

When he looked up from beneath the counter, there was a fifth man in the shop, fighting with the three men, the gun already knocked away into a corner. Foggy couldn’t help but be impressed as he watched the man fight. He moved like a ninja, all coiled strength and quiet grace, and yes, Foggy could tell even in the low light, a _fantastic_ ass. In a matter of minutes, the men were sprawled unconscious across the floor alongside broken glass and shredded flowers. The masked man turned to him.

“Are you okay?”

Foggy nodded, trying to get his heartbeat down to normal levels. “Yeah… yeah… It’s a good thing you came when you did.”

“I was nearby, I heard them, I just wish I could have made it faster.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Man in Black.”

The man gave Foggy a familiar smile that he couldn’t place while his body was still full of adrenaline. “I need to get a better name. I bet you’re glad I’m not just a story now, though.”

Foggy blushed. “How’d you know I said that? Did Karen tell you?”

There was that enigmatic smile again. “I hear a lot of things around the neighborhood.”

“What kind of things?”

“Like how good you are for it. How you always help everyone you can.”

His cheeks flamed up again. “Not like you, though. The way I hear it, you’re single handedly taking guys like this out every night.”

It was the masked man’s turn to blush. “Well. Not _every_ night.”

“Bullshit. You’re a hero.”

“Well, thank you, kind citizen. I’m honored.”

What was this? Was he… was he _flirting_ with this vigilante? And was he flirting back while three men were unconscious on the floor of his shop? What was _happening?_

The masked man broke Foggy out of his thoughts. “Is there someone important in your life I should  know about?  So I can let them know you’re safe?”

Foggy’s thoughts went straight to Matt, which made him feel guilty about…. whatever this was with the hero. But Matt was probably busy with cases, and besides, Foggy didn’t want to jeopardize anything between them, if there was anything at all. He thought about Karen, just to let her know what happened, but she was on deadline and didn’t want to worry her. He could tell her tomorrow. “Uh. No. There’s no one.”

He gave Foggy a cocky smile. “That means that I don’t have anyone to worry about getting mad if I…” He reached out and gently placed a gloved hand on Foggy’s cheek, before leaning in close and kissing him softly. Well. That answered at least one of the questions, though it raised several more. Foggy’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into it, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist, getting lost in the moment before the other man pulled away suddenly, as if he heard something. “I have to go.”

“Oh.” Foggy felt deflated, and mentally tried to catalogue every detail he could remember about the kiss as quickly as he could. The way the man’s mouth tasted ever so slightly slightly of blood, the soft, happy gasp he made when Foggy started returning the kiss, the rasp of stubble against his cheek, the tender way his lips fit against his. “Can… can you at least tell me if I’ll see you again?”

The mysterious stranger smiled and turned around, plucking a single flower out of an arrangement on display and handing it to him.

“Count on it.”

And with that, he was gone almost as quickly as he came as blue and red police lights began to shine outside, and Foggy looked at the flower in his hand, and tried to figure out what the hell just happened.

The flower was a single gardenia.

He was so deep in thought, he didn’t notice one of the men on the ground reaching the gun, and firing a shot into his shoulder, causing him to drop beside the counter.

The police rushed in, apprehending all three men, while Foggy leaned against the wood. Pain clouded his brain, but one thought stayed front and center.

  
_Matt…_

_It couldn’t be…_

_...could it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yellow Acacia means Secret Love
> 
> Kudos and comments mean the world to me, and really do keep me going.  
> There's only one chapter left, and I hope to get it done before October, so keep your eyes peeled!
> 
> [You can always come talk to me on tumblr at nerdamongnerds](http://nerdamongnerds.tumblr.com)  
> Special thanks as always to [spooteh](http://spooteh.tumblr.com) and [larthain](http://larthrain.tumblr.com/) and special shout out to [ellicelluella](http://ellicelluella.tumblr.com/) for their help! (you can blame them for the extra feels)


	6. Moss Rosebud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a crazy, crazy, crazy month (including a new job and a death in the family) but here it is!

When Foggy first remembered coming to, he was in a hospital bed. He took a look around the room, smiling when he saw the person sitting in the chair, even though it wasn't the person he really wanted to see.

“You should be in class, Candace.”

“Funny thing about professors, if you tell them your brother was shot, they tend to give you a pass to not show up. By the way, Professor Landry gets flowers at your shop, and she says to get better soon.”

Foggy smiled at his sister. “Tell her I say thanks and that her next bouquet is free.”

“So. How are you feeling?”

He looked at the bandage covering his shoulder. “Glad they had bad aim.”

She smiled. “At least you're feeling well enough to make your lame jokes.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, I’m hilarious.” He paused for a moment. “How long has it been?”

“Day and a half. You’ve been in and out for most of that time, but it was mostly gibberish. Mom was here, but she had to go take care of some things. Most of your friends stopped by, too.” Candace pointed to the side of the room that was dominated by cards, balloons, and flowers (he tried not to judge, but he couldn't help but think about the ways he would have done better than the other florists). He reached over and picked up the card nearest to his bed.

 

_Get well soon, Foggy._

_Really._

_The nearest florist is 20 mins out of my way, is twice as expensive and not nearly as good as you._

_☺_

_-Karen_

 

He smiled at the card and read the rest of them, apparently almost everyone he knew had come by and brought him something. He cuddled the teddy bear Marci had brought him, even Frank had come to give him a gift card to Home Depot. The only person he didn't see anything from was...

“Hey, Can? Did anyone... _else_ try to come see me?”

She looked up from the book she was reading. “Do you mean the blind guy? He was here with you before we got here, but mom and I didn't know him like everyone else, so we asked him to leave.”

“Oh. Yeah, that was… that was Matt. He’s a… he’s a friend. Has... he come back?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, bro.”

“Oh. No, no… it's. It’s okay.”

The awkward moment was gratefully cut short when the nurse came in.

“Glad to see you're awake, Mr. Nelson.”

“Foggy,” he corrected automatically.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, a small smile playing around her face. “Foggy, then. I’m Claire, I’ve been keeping an eye on you. How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I suppose. Shoulder kind of hurts.”

“Yeah, bullets will do that. Anyway, we surgically removed the bullet and stitched up the wound, and you seem to be healing well. We’re going to keep you here overnight for a few more tests before sending you home tomorrow most likely.” She turned to Candace. “He’s in good hands, if you want to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes you are.” Candace turned to look at Foggy with a pout, about to protest, but Foggy cut her off. “I’m a big boy, I can handle a night alone. Get some sleep. Do your homework. Go to class. If anything happens, I’m sure Claire will call you, right?” He glanced to the nurse, who nodded. “Look at me. I’m fine. I’m safe. I’m going to be okay, okay?”

She gave him a look, before going over and kissing him on the forehead. “Love you, Frankie.”

“Love you too, Can-Can.”

 

Later that night, around 2 am, Foggy found himself staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep after waking up a half hour earlier. He was debating turning on a light and reading the book Karen had brought him with her card, when he heard two people in the hallway outside his room trying to argue quietly, but failing. He watched their shadows in the doorway.

“I’m not letting you see him.”

“Please, Claire. I won’t bother him I just need to know he’s okay.”

“I’m his nurse, and I’m telling you he’s fine.”

“It’s my fault he got hurt because I didn’t pay close enough attention.”

“I’m not letting you use my patient for your weird Catholic guilt trip, Matt!”

_Matt?_ Foggy felt his heart pound in his chest.

The man’s shadow jerked his head like he just heard something, and the next thing Foggy knew, Matt was coming into his room with an exasperated Claire behind him. Even in the dark room, Foggy could tell that Matt was wearing the black clothes that the Devil had been in, confirming certain suspicions of Foggy’s.

“I guess we have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

Matt stuck his hands in his pockets almost shyly, looking like a little boy who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“That night is a little fuzzy for me, so help me clear some things up. That was you in the mask, wasn’t it?” The question was almost redundant, the man was standing there wearing the same clothes as that night, sans the mask. Matt looked like he was debating lying, but then nodded.

“Are you really blind? Because that’s a shitty thing to lie about if you aren’t.”

Matt smiled. “I’m really blind. I got into an accident as a kid, chemicals spilled into my eyes. But they did something to my other senses. They’re... heightened, I guess is the best word for it. I can tell a lot of what’s going on around me, including where people are.”

“I just nodded, could you tell that?”

“Yeah.”

“So I’m guessing that bruise from that day wasn’t from a heavy bag?”

“Slammed into a wall.”

“.Try not to do that anymore, it looked painful.”

“It definitely was.”

Foggy paused, his heart pounding as he gathered the courage to ask his next question. “So... That night. Did...did you know what flower that was? Or did you just pick one at random?”

Matt sat on the side of the hospital bed.

“I knew. And, because I’m guessing what you’re going to ask next, I remembered.”

“That their my favorite flower, or…”

“What they mean. I think I’m in love with you too, Foggy.”

 

Foggy didn’t know what to say. He sat there speechless, and Matt had the audacity to sit there smiling and looking unfairly attractive, making forming words even harder. After a moment, he just blurted out the first thing that came into his head.

 

“God damn it, Matt, just kiss me.”

  
Matt smiled. “Gladly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moss Rosebuds mean a confession, usually of love
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me through this, it really means a lot to me.
> 
> As always, you can visit me on nerdamongnerds on tumblr. 
> 
> Also, I have an epilogue planned, but it's going to be a second short fic set in this verse!


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